Page 103 of Descent

“Why is that?”

I pause for a moment, choosing my words carefully.

“Skyla has been talking about her mom a lot lately. She doesn’t really know anything about her and she’s desperate for it. I told her I’d do some digging if she complied in bed,” I shrug in an asshole way my dad will love.

Sure enough, an amused grin spreads across his face as he nods.

“Nice negotiating skills, son. Just remember, these women are practically worthless. If they won’t do it, someone else will. Or you can go for more…aggressive tactics. Double the fun,” he winks, in a way that turns my stomach when I have to smile in agreement.

Oh, how did I spend my day? With my father telling me if my wife doesn’t want to do something in bed, I should just rape her. God, he’s a fucking piece of shit.

“Did you know her? You all went to school together, right?” I ask.

He nods slowly, a haziness coming to his eyes like he’s reminiscing right this very moment.

“Well,” he says, a soft clearing of his throat as he does.

“How well?” I ask a little too quickly.

He shoots me a suspicious glare before he responds.

“Very well. What is this really about?”

“I told you. I—”

“Yes, and as you can tell, I see through your lie. Now, tell me why you’re really here.”

There are a couple of ways that I could play this. If I double down on my denial, maybe I could get out of this. Then again, maybe I should tell him the truth; he might be able to help. Maybe I’ll leave out the whole ‘we killed Clark Lewis’ thing.

“Skyla has a stalker,” I say, testing the waters with that sentence.

I study him like a hawk, waiting for any indication or reaction. He looks taken back for a moment before he tilts his head to the side in intrigue.

“A stalker? Since when?”

“Since the beginning of school,” I answer.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he accuses, like that should have been my first instinct.

“I didn’t know until right before the ceremony. After that, I didn’t feel it was necessary. I thought it was just someone messing with her head.”

“But it’s not?”

I shake my head. “No, the stalker is behind Liam’s car accident and they—”

“Why would he hurt Liam if he’s after Skyla?” my father asks curiously.

Fuck.

My mind scrambles with any reasonable answer I can give. I draw a blank across the board, though. Understanding seems to dawn on my father’s face, and I swallow roughly as he stands, rounding the desk to stand in front of me.

“You sharing your wife, son?”

I read him as best as I can, or at least I try to. I can’t be seeing what I think I see, though. He isn’t angry or disgusted. Instead, he’s engaged, maybe even a little proud? I decide to lean into this, carefully.

“When we’re bored,” I shrug nonchalantly. “Somehow, the creep snuck into the house, took a picture of us…together and left a threatening note right before Liam’s accident.”

My father’s lips purse in displeasure for that last piece. He begins pacing the room as he speaks.

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